


Good Morning

by Sachete



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 11:20:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5495291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sachete/pseuds/Sachete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s light. A little bit, coming through the blinds and curtains. Early light covered with clouds. It might as well be night still. If it were night, sleeping would make sense, but it’s not night, and nothing makes sense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Morning

The fan spins lazy circles onto the ceiling, doing nothing to push the air around the muggy room. The window is open. Rain hangs thick in the clouds outside but refuses to fall. I smell it. I must be breathing water. I almost consider dragging my lazy ass out of bed to put some of the plants outside for some much-needed watering before the bottom falls out, but laziness wins out in the end. I train my eyes on one blade of the fan and follow it around its path until I’m too dizzy and have to let the movement blur together.

There’s a pair of legs sprawled over mine, an arm stretched over my chest, toying with some loose thread in the sheets. You awake, he murmurs. I grunt. Too hot. Too humid. I push his legs off of me but let his arm lie. Breakfast? Fuck no. Coffee? Maybe. If you make it. The weight lifts from my chest, and I listen to sweat-sticky feet pad over the wood floor out of the bedroom, into the kitchen. Water runs (I breathe it) into a glass pot, trickles into the machine, hisses and spits back into the pot. The aroma lingers in the air with the rain that won’t fall.

There’s light. A little bit, coming through the blinds and curtains. Early light covered with clouds. It might as well be night still. If it were night, sleeping would make sense, but it’s not night, and nothing makes sense.

There’s a hot mug in my face. I sit up and take it, careful not to spill. The first sip is too hot and flavorless. The second sip is actually a gulp and I burn my mouth. Ginger, ginger. Chrissakes, Dirk, not so fast, you’ll choke. I don’t choke. I snort instead. Wording. You know what I meant. ’s too early for your head to be shoved this far up your ass. I listen to him, though, take it slower, stomach warm, mouth bitter. He leans down to kiss my cheek. Feeling all right? ’m fine. Never better. He runs a thumb over the place he kissed me, strokes the bristles and skin there with a scratchy sound. We’re quiet. Private. I force my eyes to stay open. I might fall asleep.

He takes his hand away, goes to his side of the bed to retrieve his glasses from the table. What are we doing today? Need to water plants. Mow the grass if the rain holds off. The sky chooses that moment to open up. I’m breathing rain. Thank fuck. Nevermind, then. Didn’t wanna mow anyway. The plants need watering. We’ll put them out on the driveway.

Is that all you can think of, he asks. You could kiss me again, I say, and he does, presses his lips to my cheek soft-like, hesitant, and I turn to catch him on the mouth. Good morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my [Tumblr.](http://sachete.tumblr.com/)


End file.
